Stay out of the box!

Tag Archives: patriot

I’m tired of hearing my thoughts, I want to be felt, not read. I want to be understood, not interpreted. All this noise out there is deafening. I want my own frequency.

I don’t care if you’re right, or left for that matter. I care that you are willing to compromise your integrity by screaming vomit as a way of distancing yourself from your absurdities. You can attack me when your point is dull, that’s popular; just remember your tone doesn’t make you right, it makes you loud.

I’m sick of the ignorance. It goes way beyond feelings at this point. We educate folks because ignorance is dangerous. It’s not anyone’s fault your paralyzed into fear over shit you don’t understand. Wake up and think. Stop relying on folks to explain things to you. This makes you the victim.

There are folks out there with elaborate methods to direct your thoughts towards their goals. They will appeal to your needs, your fears, or your aspirations for their pockets.

They dangle pensions and medicine like your an ass strapped to a cart being led by a plastic carrot. Don’t believe me, look, listen, hear what’s going on around you. It’s very clear if you open your mind.

You can be a career, or live to be a legacy, or pass along freedom and adventure’s journey. There’s a long line of mules dressed as prosperity sitting on my mantle as a reminder. A reminder that the size of the cage doesn’t change the fact we’re captured, borders are borders.

Folks don’t even understand freedom anymore. It’s a word with colors that are translucent. They think liberty is something to strive for, not understanding that you have to be imprisoned to be liberated. They trade the suffocation of more oppressive ideologies for the delusion of an overdressed prison yard with rules that even tell them how to cross a street.

There was a time little signs dotted manicured green spaces warning us not to walk on the grass. This was to protect the efforts of those that sculpted the illusion of beauty and preserve the image of order.

100 years later there are millions of folks who don’t “walk on the grass” because it’s dirty, or there are bugs, and a good many who fear stepping off the path.

Now truth has been bred out of your DNA. You cry for more laws, rules, and regulations as a right to be imprisoned. We despise honesty like a mirror that reflects our obese ideals. So now the shattered pieces of what you realize was a lie are spread out before you to reassemble into this compartmentalized insanity.

Don’t listen to me. Don’t listen to the folks who want to own each piece of your shattered insanity to reflect patriotic colors as a blinding light. Listen to your mind, feel with your heart, and walk away from the ephemeral prison that has been created for you to spend most of your life as an inmate only to enjoy a few years as the guard.

Freedom doesn’t have boundaries, it has consequences. Liberty can’t be passed on or inherited, it’s our inherent birthright as humans to think and act freely without regard to power. We self regulate.

America is beautiful. Our ideals noble. Our people diverse and charitable. This is unique in the history of the world. Our government no longer represents, nor resembles us. It seeks to divide us with their fears. Their fear that we’ll collect their shattered pieces and take away the prism they use to perpetuate this blinding ignorance. It’s s matter of time and circumstance whether that’s done through civil means or sacrifice.

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free.”. “We the people….”.
I could fill a book with patriotic phases, but that’s not my purpose. I am an American. I am a Veteran. I am a Christian. I am a Georgian. I am these things by choice, I’m other things also, but those choices weren’t the best ideas.

I read where some folks want me to be white. Some for unity others for divisive purposes. I didn’t chose this and don’t consider it a defining characteristic. Some would say I can’t chose to not be “white”, it’s a “privilege” I was born with. I don’t play that game and make no excuses or advantage for who I am. I wasn’t raised like that, and I was raised in the segregated north. The one where a few charismatic “civil rights” narcissists created a plastic legacy on the backs of a few good men of different colors. Yeah, I said it.

Some would say I’m a convict. That was the bad choice. I’ll live with the scars of that choice, but that label is yours. I’m an honest man who made a dishonest choice and the consequences are a life sentence for me and others, but don’t get it twisted dude, it’s safer for everyone involved if folks heal, understand, and move on, together or separately. You don’t want a society of folks living in the past, trust me.

Some folks would call me a misogynist. I don’t have no androcentric view of the world. Most of the folks around me would call me courteous. That’s because I’ll carry the heavier grocery sack. I’ll open the door for another person. I’ll compliment an attractive woman. I don’t focus on my strength or a woman’s femininity to bolster a masculine view for myself. I like woman who like men and men that like woman. If you don’t that’s cool, I’ll still open the door for you and greet you.

Some folks would call me poor. I don’t have a lot of possessions or any aspirations to be what some folks consider rich. I do have folks that love me. I do love the folks in my circle. My idea of wealthy would be a good days work with my “old lady”, a long lunch laughing and kissing, followed by a dinner with an unexpected guest who overstays their welcome. No bills would be good, but we’ll make do.

I am an intelligent man. I can think, research, and teach myself like a good mechanic can keep an old car hummin. I ain’t fooled by titles or degrees, I’m a grown man. Those things have a purpose that’s largely designed to stratify society; they’re not an indication of leadership, morality, or intellect. For those of you smart enough to be uncomfortable in that strata, you can go it alone, in the end being a happy person helps more folks than any position or degree.

There are many “things” people could, and do, call me or classify me as. You may feel this way also. Just think for a minute as to why you’re being put into a particular box. Your life is divided up into a dichotomy of madness by folks you don’t know for purposes you don’t care for or benefit from.

Ask yourself why folks are so interested in your failures and successes, then look at who’s really trying to gain an advantage by segregating you from yourself and others. Once it’s obvious you can close the door on ignorance and get back to the table with folks who just want to share a meal and a laugh until the next visit.

You may be wondering about the huddled masses and we the people and how that fits in this rant. Well those statements and many others established in America are not androcentric. These statements were made by men who saw people through the prism of a cracked European heritage. They overcame that legacy intellectually even when they were unable to do so in their own lives in some cases. But they passed on in writing what was right.

They gathered at tables and on benches around the country and came to the same conclusion. Folks need to be free to live their lives as they chose as long as it doesn’t oppress someone else. They would be appalled at the dysfunctional dichotomy that folks have created to divide us. They would scratch their heads at the notion that “multiculturalism” would be considered a path to unite Americans.

They would be disappointed that Christians groveled to outside influence and question God rather than continuing to pray an act in the spirit of James. They would be angered that atheist have a voice in our morality with the history they have buried underneath false philosophical premises.

None of these folks want to sit around and talk. Technology has enabled us to communicate at a level we’re still not mature enough to understand. It’s a whole different game when you sit across the table from the person you’re talking to, and the folks who are dividing you understand that. They don’t like tables and porches, they hide in closets with a desk.

Open letter:
I’ve never done an open letter before, but I feel a gap in the veteran narrative that’s close to my heart. There’s a group of service members, soldiers in my case, who’ve quietly slipped away beneath the quest of writers, reporters, and business men looking to make a buck trying to turn service members into victims.

I salute those Viet Nam era service members who gave the ultimate for their country. Some joined and some were drafted. I imagine the fought for the person to their left and right, which culminated in a national effort. Our country was a little off kilter then, like now, so many weren’t pleased with the civilian leadership, like now. Regardless, their honor and sacrifice is part of a time honored tradition.

I felt bad for those soldiers coming home to negative publicity and personal attacks. They didn’t deserve that. There was a real national threat, it just didn’t involve any actions by the enemy that folks could foresee, they were just beginning the whole “immediate gratification”thing back then. It’s easy to see how dangerous the world was in light of what we know now about the Cold War.

The folks who slipped through are the ones that didn’t come home. They didn’t die. They saw it through to the end and the lessons they learnt about men, materials, and tactics would stay with them forever. They stayed the course, reenlisted, and began the work of building a professional military.

This is where I came in, 1979. Right before Reagan came into office and these warriors put on their professional hats and used the money and freedom afforded them to train the most feared military in history. This is not an exaggeration, no country would make a move for 30 some years. If they did jump, they were put down with speed, precision, and violence of action, no messing around.

The Viet Nam Era leaders created this military that created years of peace. They spared no feelings or considerations when it cam to training and equipping their soldiers. Most importantly they embedded the “Lead by Example” mentality in generations of service members.

These guys went on to retire and moved into the civilian world quietly and confident that they left things better than they found them. I joined in 79 and retired in 98. I can tell you that it was two different militaries I served in.
My most proudest moment was when our soldiers executed the “100 day war” and again put down aggression with professional speed, precision, and violence of action. I’m proud because I passed those lessons I learnt from the Viet nam Era soldiers onto those soldiers and they performed flawlessly. I was not present at this war. I had retired and was teaching at the time, but I was proud!

If you read this by chance pass it on. There are millions of Viet Nam Era service members out there silently reminiscing in this success. There are millions of relatives that proudly display photos of these leaders in their homes. Let’s not forget them either, they stayed the course and gave us many years of peace through their strength of conviction. For this I am proud to have served under the Viet Nam era soldiers and am eternally grateful for those that humbly served our nation creating decades of peace.

With Respect
A fellow soldier

P.S. Would some leader, historian, or political figure please go back and read over General Powell’s comments on never going into action without an exit strategy. He brought that lesson to light after Mogadishu I believe!!!!

I’ve been confused about this postmodernism movement and how it came about. I started being suspicious when those 60’s and 70’s feminist and separatist popped up again, I thought I was done with them. I was really hopeful if never hear “Dylan” again!

It seems the watershed moment was the “gay marriage” movement. That opened the door for those idiots to attack government, science, and religion at full speed, they made some progress too.

One of the key strategies of these yawhoos is to convince folks that there’s no such thing as truth. This is fundamental to them attacking religion with the support of atheist. It helped them push the “gay narrative” by adding LGBT to their agenda. Feminist could latch on unknowingly proclaiming that it’s a crime to display male characteristics. Ethnic groups could cry foul about white males running the country by finding every black man shot and blow the narrative up to some hyperbolic frenzy about police brutality. Poor folks could justify their poverty by finding a couple corrupt white dudes with power.

The postmodernist gain some attention because the extreme right and left in this country created a void where radical and foreign forces could start a dialog, neither of these groups are good for America.

Make no mistake, this movement was orchestrated by the postmodernist utilizing the media to exaggerate the divide in the country. Hell, being a protester became a paid profession, if that ain’t suspicious I don’t know what is. Not to mention the fact that where you’re sitting right now there were no problems of the nature they’re espousing.

Think of it like a group of directors creating a movie unbeknownst to the actors. They just guide a few folks towards a perceived injustice, pay a couple actors to create the scene, then have some covert yuppie get a few minutes air time and “bladow”, you got a movement. They did this with race, gender, science and technology all to further their narrative that there is nothing true.

The narratives make sense sometimes. Like 9/11. The way those towers fell was suspicious. The only problem is you can’t take those 3 planes full of terrorists out of the air. They capitalize on this suspicion by finding the dollars made at war and claiming foul play, which their most certainly is. However, review casualty counts of our wars and compare them. Those dollars made on war save lives on both sides.

Some folks say that our aggression is greedy, or subversive. I hope it is. If you can justify the atrocities in these backwards nations by complaining about the amount of money we’re recouping you probably wear a “Che” t-shirt and are sad you couldn’t meet Fidel before he hopefully choked to death.

There are truths in this world. No matter how you divide consciousness or attack the ego for driving the train you’ll alway be the id. And it’s children who are suppose to live in the realm of fantasy.

Truth is concrete. You can live without a God. You can live without science and dream of nothingness so you don’t have to do anything. You can live without law believing karma will make it all right. You can even sit on a desert rock cross legged to find something interesting to say. That’s the beauty of America. We’ll be there to protect you while you do nothing but try to ruin 200 years of progress in the world. We won’t let you succeed, but you can have your own “American Dream”, something you can’t do most other places.

The postmodernist movement is a lingering side effect of the avant guards attempt to subvert America. Back in the day they used the entertainment industry. The problem now is that other institutions in our nation have weakened and became complacent.

These folks think socialism should replace capitalism. They are to young not to be influenced by those older yuppies who thought they could create a utopia by doing nothing sharing the labors of others. We shut them up with progress back then, and we’ll do it again. Just remember they don’t dress like hippies now, they have suits and ties and will lie about their intentions to attain power. That’s why they have no problems with the Muslim faiths belief that attaining for Allah is something you do at any cost. He or she isn’t necessarily white either, he could be a black man at the right place at the right time.

Either way destruction of my freedom is what they want to achieve. So step up your game and stay aware of your surroundings. The revolutionary with a crazy intent isn’t the danger, it’s the friend or family member who buys into shit they don’t even study about who’s trouble, and they don’t realize it till it’s to late, like the “Kool-Aide” folks.

I fight daily against an enemy of words. The world tries to steal my freedom with names that fit people, but make no sense to a person. All I want to do is honor the pride in my hands, the hands that feed my imagination and my hunger.

I have no color. I’m not a continent, I’m a land to myself. I live where my boundaries take me, not where I am placed. I build a life for my own, not for scavengers to fly above waiting till the time is ripe.

A group is insecure by nature and needs others to validate their beliefs, I need no man to walk the paths of my journey, you may shake my hand, but never my beliefs, so go elsewhere for weaker constitutions.

I see other men joining. I will never join anything but my beloved. I don’t need another mans glory to walk proud. I don’t need clothing and adornments to demonstrate my weakness within another mans prowess, I stand alone. You cannot define a free man, he won’t allow it.
I understand most men seek solace in the company of other men under a banner of past accomplishments by other men, but me, I’m not livestock. I’m brave enough to be free.

Things do not make me, the earth does. My nature is not built of glass and steel, I’m relentless like the growth that overtakes your buildings long after they’ve been abandoned for new fantasies.

I don’t need to be entertained by false displays of bravado or heroism. I fight a war for my existence everyday not to be defined by the ignorance around me. Slogans and creeds are the vines that choke a free man. Banners and flags are just signs of which direction the storm is coming. My mind is outside the realm of incarceration, no matter where my body is.

I wish no man Ill will, nor do I judge a man for being led. We stand where we’re placed, from there we put down roots based on our topography, or keep moving to avoid being cultivated. Germination is more than seeds in dirt, and to stand in awe at the explosion of light throughout your life trying to climb on the backs of other men like weeds in a garden doesn’t create fertile souls. Turning the soul over continuously prepares the mind to consider the spirit.

Stay free my friend. Resist the world and it defining ambitions. Don’t come my way with your seeds of destruction, it will be like planting seeds in a jungle, the wild ones will always take over and define themselves. I wish you a lifetime of calloused hands toiling, and sweating brows dripping, into your own pastoral bliss.

Your faith is evident by the seeds you plant. It lies within your spirit battling your mind with a patient smile knowing that home is where your heart beats. Mind over matter is just that.
Your true pride shows by the ground your feet trod. Favorite colors fade and stars hide behind the light of day contrasting the patriot and the common man. Life can’t grow on flags or feelings, soil is life.

Your service is tradition while folks live their lives in spite of you. You can’t have pride in serving people you don’t know, but your vicarious life has meaning to a system that swallows communities without tasting the citizens pain.

Alas, the scheme permeates families like an invisible myst as Dad goes to work leaving mom to clean up his mess. I see the rubric and the boxes you’ve strategically placed to keep “us” stored.

So now we inadvertently give life to inanimate objects for your toy box. Monuments and mouthpieces stand tall and loud hiding the earth they came from so you can cultivate an ideal, but I’m rooted in reality. Sewn in the soil of revolution. Tended by calloused hands stained with dirt.

I’m rooted in the belief that my faith was born on a cross, not in a building. My country was born in the soil that stained the souls and hands of people, not in a monument made of dust. My community was born in outstretched hands and hearts, not in civic centers or duties. My family was born in the love of my forefathers, our homes are just real estate.

So you can try to bring inanimate objects to life for your personal gain or financial windfall. Just remember not all of us are blinded by your emotions; and vigilance stands guard over people, not things.